A Song For Those Gone

Oh, you seem to have no idea Of the poor state youre in Coarse and common as your hands are What are you supposed to feel Clutching yourself in your hunger No, no, you dont know better Oh, you seem to have no fear Of blisters and bruises Eating their way through your skin What is in it for you to gain What have you got to loose But the nothing in your open hands Oh, you seem to have no mercy For the sleeping and those in troubled wake Making your way through shady corridors What is it you hope to find here What did they take you think you could claim back As this house crumbles in the fire that you set Oh, you seem to have no idea Where you send your saber going Cutting lines in the face of those nearest Tell me, have you forgotten Even the butchered have their dignity No, no, you dont know better Clutching yourself in your hunger Even the butchered have their dignity